I spent the last few days at my Aunt Janet's house, which was fun. I took my clay and taught my young cousin, Jilese, how to make a few things. She might be a bit young for really complicated things out of clay, but I she grasps the basics pretty well. She's a very creative little girl. I realized this weekend, that I'm rarely happier than when I'm making something. Whether it's with clay, paper, or yarn, I just really love making things. Janet insists that I ought to sell the things I make, but I really wouldn't have the first clue how to get started doing that. Besides, except for the books I make, I worry about the copyright issues because nearly everything else I make is from someone else's patterns.
Anyway, the point of this post was to talk about how creativity equals happiness in my life. I'd like to add some pithy comment but I don't have one. I just really love making things. And I love teaching others how to make things too. I don't think I'm a great artist -- my stuff wouldn't win prizes in contests or be shown in a gallery -- but I do really love watching something take shape beneath my fingers. Maybe I don't have any deep thoughts to add because I don't want to think about it too closely. I just want to let it be, let the creativity live and not question it. :) I'm off to do some more.
